


Slither On By

by Taryn_Fire (Yuurei)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuurei/pseuds/Taryn_Fire
Summary: Aziraphale loves his books. Crowley loves scaring people - at least that's his excuse for slithering around the book shop.





	Slither On By

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jay_Feathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Feathers/gifts).

Aziraphale hated selling books. If he were given to prose he'd say it felt like chipping away at pieces of his soul. He ran a bookstore though and, despite running things in contrary ways to decrease customers and decrease sales even further, he occasionally did have to part with something from the collection. He couldn't outright refuse but he wished there was something other than odd hours and exorbitant prices that would keep people away. 

Crowley knew Aziraphale loved his books. Knew it like he knew the back of his hand, when he had hands to speak of anyway. Currently he was rather without them which given this day and age was more a rarity than in the past where a snake could travel freely where a snake eyed man could not. You see that change in people's demeanor was actually the reason he was currently a snake at all. 

While he couldn't be out and about without causing a mass panic, which mind you was a load of good fun on occasion, he could however be inside this very select bookstore owned by Aziraphale with no one the wiser unless they came to buy books. Oh of course they'd still panic and usually exit with alacrity. He'd get a scolding from the angel every time it happened too, but after the scolding, so mild it may as well have not happened, the angel would putter off with a brief upward tilt of his lips and run his hands along whatever tome the would be customer had dropped in their haste.

One less customer and one more book that would stay in the shop; it worked rather well. If he told said angel the only reason he hung around so often slithering through the stacks was for the laughs alone, well there was no one to call him on it.


End file.
